


Like You Were Mine

by LucySpencer



Series: Those Graces [24]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Heavy Angst, I Don't Even Know, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, POV Second Person, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This keeps happening, What Have I Done, but first it will piss you off, just leave it alone, seriously what am I doing, she said there's not a lot of me left anymore, the truth will set you free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:19:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2603297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucySpencer/pseuds/LucySpencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I am waiting for that sense of relief, I am waiting for you to flee the scene.</i> Petty jealousy and dysfunctional relationships- what else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like You Were Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, wonderful people! Did I ever mention how much I love you all? I'm barfing rainbows just thinking about it. I just can't thank everyone enough!
> 
> Well, I lied to you last week...this is one of those chapters that went in an unexpected direction, so I had to cut some stuff for the sake of everyone's sanity. But never fear, because next time we will see the results of Brian's investigation into the mysterious hole in the wall.
> 
>  **A/N:** Implied sex, no real violence, petty jealousy, and something you never saw coming (or at least, I didn't). Title and quotes from _come round soon_ by Sara Bareilles.

_{it looks like rain tonight and thank God  
cause a clear sky just wouldn't seem right}_

"Shit, I guess I should get going," Nick says, glancing at the clock on the wall as he stands up. "Don't wanna wear out my welcome."

"Like that would ever happen," Brian scoffs, and you turn around to give him your best disapproving frown. They had actually been getting along quite nicely, even when Nick had hung around for a while after everyone else left, but now Brian was getting to the end of his rope hospitality-wise. Nick had shown up early and interrupted a...moment between the two of you with an ill-timed knock at the door, and you knew he was more than ready to get back to what you had been doing. He wasn't the only one- God, was he ever not- but you understood that Nick was probably lonely and thus grateful to get out of the house and have an adult conversation. You'd been there enough yourself to recognize it when you saw it, after all. 

You offer to walk him downstairs, and you're both largely silent until you step outside (save for a reminder that you're not to be disturbed tomorrow night for anything short of the apocalypse.) He just nods but otherwise doesn't reply.

"I thought you were going to tell everyone you were pregnant, when you said you had an announcement," Nick finally says, and that's a hell of a way to break the silence. "Pregnant or engaged."

"And you would've died either way, huh?"

"Yeah. I...he really loves you. You know that, right?"

"I know that's what he told you." You shove your hands into your coat pockets, looking up at the moon and biting your bottom lip pensively. "I tried to get it out of him one day. I brought up what you had said, that I knew you two had been talking about me, but...nothing. He didn't mention it."

"Liv..."

"It's okay, really. People say those kinds of things in a crisis and it doesn't always mean anything, it's no big deal."

"He meant it. Trust me, I know he did. And I know that it _is_ a big deal, at least to you." You ignore the feeling of his eyes staring at you like he thinks he can see into your soul. Joke's on him; there's nothing there worth seeing anymore. "I'm thinking...he's holding back because he doesn't wanna scare you off."

"Wow, you care a lot about him and me all of a sudden. What changed?"

"Nothing, I still think he's an ass," he assures you. "But...you ever thought about giving up your, ah, extracurricular activities? And don't tell me you dunno what I'm talking about."

"It's not your business, Nick."

"He's an ass, but he would do fuckin _anything_ for you. He'd never...if someone really cared about you, they wouldn't put you in second place."

"It's not that easy, okay, Elliot's got a lot of shit keeping him where he is. His kids, for one. He's so close with his youngest, and for him to not be able to see his son every day- it would kill him. And if she tried to keep him away from Eli altogether...you understand how he feels, I know you do. I don't want him taking that risk."

"You think she'd really do that?"

"Not sure. I don't think she's a vindictive person, but you never can tell what people are capable of, you know? I mean, I never would've thought she'd get herself knocked up as a way to get him to come back, but it happened."

"You're serious," Nick says in a way that indicates that when he said 'serious,' he meant 'delusional'.

"Oh yeah. I can't prove it, obviously, but if there's anyone who knows exactly when she's most likely to get pregnant, it's her. It's a long story, I'll explain it to you one day," you add when he furrows his brow in confusion. "But anyway, tearing his family apart...that's not what I want from him."

"So you'll just keep on being his dirty little secret?"

"That's not how it works at all."

"Course it does. You need him, I don't understand why, but you do and he knows that. So he pretty much has a free pass as far as you're concerned, because he's figured out you're not gonna rock the boat. What about when he decides he can't deal with it all anymore? Where's that leave you?"

Your face feels warm and flushed despite the cold night air. He wouldn't just abandon you like that. Not like he did before. He promised you. _I don't ever wanna be without you again, Liv, it would fucking kill me. I'm here to stay this time._ "You act like...God, Nick, stop trying to lecture me on things you know nothing about. I haven't even slept with him, I swear to Christ I'm telling you the truth."

"And what I'm telling you- you're at a vulnerable place and he's taking advantage of that, whether you're having sex or not. Even if you never do, it doesn't change the facts."

"Whatever 'place' you think I'm at...you know what, I've had enough of your bullshit. I'm going back inside."

"I'm not saying this because I'm dying for you and Cassidy to have a happily ever after, Liv. I'm saying it cause I'm trying to watch out for you. Because I know you'd do the same for me." He turns away, looking down the street for an approaching cab. "I'm on your side, whatever you do, but everything I told you... _somebody_ needed to say it."

"Okay. Goodnight, Nick."

You keep staring in the direction the cab went even after you can't see it anymore, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. The wind picks up, a cold breeze stinging your cheeks, and you duck back inside the building to escape it. You have someone waiting for you upstairs, anyway.

_{I may seem naive if I cry as you leave  
like I'm just one more tortured heart}_

"I forgot to tell you I'm angry at you."

"You sure seem like it," Elliot quips, and you lift your head up from where it was resting on his bare chest, glaring at him so he would know you didn't appreciate his sarcasm.

"I'm not kidding. I woke up yesterday to, guess what, Brian wanting to know why there was a big fucking hole in the wall."

"You knew that would happen eventually, you should've been prepared," he says, as if he wasn't the catalyst for this problem in the first place.

"I was. I told him I did it...I think he believed me. I had these cuts on my hand last weekend anyway, so I blamed it on that. Pretty convenient."

"But they were on your left hand."

"No, look, my right has a few scratches on it," you say, holding it up to demonstrate. "And you're not helping. You might never be invited back here if you keep pissing me off."

"Yeah, I don't see that happening."

"Well, I know for sure we're not going to be able to do...this, you showing up at night anymore, now that Brian's gonna be at IA."

"It just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? Son of a..."

You frown even though he can't see it. "Not his fault."

"Everything is his fault," and you ignore that remark, propping yourself up on one elbow and making a shushing noise before you go back to kissing him. The evening had started off on an unpleasant note before it was even midday (when you woke up to find you were going to be unexpectedly cockblocked by Mother Nature). Now you were in the uncomfortable position of figuring out how to say 'if you thought you were getting laid tonight, you're not' without making it seem like you assumed that _he_ assumed that you were going to have sex in the first place. Jesus, you are way too old for this shit. God had obviously intended for people your age to be either married or dead. 

But if he thought you were being presumptuous, he managed to keep his smug mouth shut about it. Maybe it was because you didn't give him much of a chance to say anything- when he showed up at the door, you would've grabbed his tie and yanked him inside like people do on TV if he had actually been wearing a tie. As it was, you made seven stops in between the front door and the bedroom because you couldn't let go of each other long enough to keep moving. 

You ended up messing around for a while- you weren't going to fuck, but you hadn't been waiting for this all week just to sip tea and play checkers, that's for goddamn sure. And anyway, you weren't going to get tired of kissing him anytime soon, of his hand in your hair and his voice in your ear and the warmth of being skin to skin with your arms around him. You had fifteen years worth of it to make up for, after all, which added up to a hell of a lot of heated makeout sessions. Your 10th grade self would be so, so envious.

"Hey," he says, and you smile as you feel the vibration of his voice against your mouth when you kiss the hollow of his throat. "If I could come up with a reason to get out of the house for a weekend, would you go with me?"

"Go with you where?"

"Don't really give a shit. All I want's to be with you and not have to keep looking at the clock, y'know? To not be counting down how long I've got left before I have to leave. Just for a couple days."

"You think that's a good idea?" you ask in surprise, wondering for the millionth time what the hell else goes on in his head that you're not aware of.

"You don't?"

"It's not that I don't think...I dunno. I really hate lying, sneaking around, that whole thing." The irony of saying this while you were half-naked in bed with someone other than your boyfriend was not lost on you. "But I...yeah. It sounds really nice, don't get me wrong. I just- I'll think about it, okay?"

"Sometimes it's, this...it's not enough, you know?"

"El..."

"You can't tell me there's not a part of you that's wondering about what you'd do if dumbass walked through the door right now," he says. "See? You wouldn't have to worry about that shit."

"For a few days, and then what? That's not life. That's...nothing changes."

"Just think about it," and he knows as well as you do that he's already won, because otherwise you would've just told him straight up to go fuck himself. 

You don't reply, still nuzzling at his pulse point while your fingertips trace a line across his skin just beneath the waistband of his jeans. "I could be making you feel really fucking good right now, know that?"

"Liv," he says, and now it's his turn to be the not quite reluctant one. 

"Come on, I want to," you insist, stroking him teasingly through the rough fabric and whispering reminders that you know what he likes. He groans, and from the other side of the room your phone chirps loudly. "Fucking hell..."

"If that's dumbass, I swear-"

"No, no, it just needs to be plugged in. The battery is shit on this thing- will you grab the charger for me? It's there on that table right next to you, in the drawer."

He leans over and reaches for the requested item, dropping it on your pillow. He's about to close the drawer, but something seems to catch his attention and he pulls it open again, smirking in a way that you just know heralds nothing but trouble for you. "Well, well. Someone's been busy."

"Yeah, you caught me there. What can I say." You know what he's referring to even before he holds up the half-empty condom box. In truth, you've had that same box since God knows when- you had mostly stopped bothering with them last spring- but you didn't feel the need to explain that to him. 

"No, no. I just...is it that good? Really?"

" _That_ is none of your business," you say, arms crossed over your chest. "Are you done?"

"All I'm sayin is, it can't be that amazing or else you wouldn't need your little friend you've got over there in the dresser."

"Okay. A, what are you doing going through my shit, and B, that is a back massager."

He shrugs, and that stupid grin on his face is growing more obnoxious by the second. "A, I saw it when _you_ sent me in here one day to get your sweatshirt, and B, no it's not."

"I got it at Target; they don't sell vibrators there. Go see for yourself. It's a back massager."

"Yeah, but that's not you use it for."

"Fine, you caught me again," you say, because if he wants to play this game, so can you. "But who said I use it when I'm by myself?"

He scowls and it delights you so. "Well, I just figured you must- because obviously when you're _not_ alone, you're doing something else. Someone else."

"Why is this such a newsflash to you? Yeah, we have sex. And I like it. A lot. What, did you think I was saving myself for marriage?"

"No, no, I can see that ship has sailed."

"I'm not going to discuss this with you," you say, unable to resist the temptation to roll your eyes that's been building ever since this conversation started.

"So what, did you go right home and fuck him?"

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

He sits back against the headboard like he's settling in for the long haul. "At the hotel. I very clearly remember you saying it had been a while."

"This is so inappropriate, I'm done."

"You know what my therapist said?" he asks, and oh boy- this should be good. "That's a meaningless word. Saying 'this is inappropriate,' that's just another way of saying 'I don't like it'."

"Okay then, I don't like us talking about this. I would never ask you what you're doing with your wife and when, because it's not my concern."

"Well, it _is_ my concern, and I wanna know."

"Know what? Do you want a list of every time we've done it?" You go in search of the shirt you discarded on the floor somewhere, realizing too late that he'll probably mistake that for a legitimate offer. 

"Christ, Olivia, don't be stupid. All I asked was, did you go home and fuck him?"

The answer, of course, was no, but you still weren't giving him carte blanche to pry into your personal life. "What would it matter if I did?"

"I should've known," he says, laughing to himself. 

"Known _what_? Elliot, when I got in your car that night, there was no part of me that was thinking I was gonna end up in bed with you. None. This wasn't a pre-planned...anything."

"Didn't say it was."

"Okay, fine. So now what? You think you were some sort of trial run, that I was just testing the waters to see if I could do it before I...no. I don't do that kind of thing. I would never, especially...I wouldn't do that to you."

"I believe you." This is when you know things are going to get ugly, when he's all short sentences and agreements, because it means he's got his prey in sight and he's preparing to strike. 

"Great, then we're both on the same page. End of conversation."

"You're fucking him because I'm not around."

And there it is. "Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. You're horny and bored, he's willing and conveniently located."

"Wait, what? First I'm using you for a test drive, now I'm using him as a replacement for you. How shitty of a human being do you think I am?"

"I never said any of that. I said I knew you wouldn't do that kind of thing. And I _never_ would've laid a finger on you if I thought you were doing it for ulterior motives, and not because you genuinely wanted to." He has a point there. For all he overlooks about you, his bullshit detector has always been pretty finely tuned, and his ego is too massive to willingly be a warmup act for someone else. 

"I did. Genuinely want to, I mean. But...I know you find this hard to believe, but I honestly do have feelings for him that run deeper than 'oh look, it's a substitute Elliot.' And I'm sor- actually, no. I'm not sorry at all. I don't owe you an apology. I don't owe you _anything_."

"Right. But I still think you wanted it to be me fucking you."

"You can think whatever you want. I need another drink." You barely make it past the doorway before he's right at your heels, grabbing onto your sleeve and yanking you back until you're practically nose to nose with him. "What the fuck is your problem?!"

"What's my problem? I hate having to share you!" 

"Well, that's too bad," you say flatly as you jerk your arm away, gritting your teeth. He _knows_ better than to get in your face and yell like that, or at least he used to, but you're not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you shaken.

"I'm serious. It fucking kills me to think about him touching you."

"So what, I should just break it off?"

You have no idea how he manages to keep a straight face when he shakes his head and looks at you with an unblinking stare. "Just promise me you'll stop fucking him."

"You did _not_ just say that!" Unlike him, you can't keep yourself from laughing. It's the only correct way you can think of to respond, despite knowing full well that he's absolutely not joking. "Why don't you take a minute to think about what the hell you're doing, okay, because-"

"Oh come on, Liv, if you were already holding out on him for that long, is it really gonna matter? He'll survive and I doubt you'll miss it all that damn much."

You inhale deeply and take a moment to prepare yourself. If he wants this to get personal- well, you can give as good as you get. Game on. "Do you _not_ understand how we, how this relationship works? When you walk out that door, that's where it ends. When I'm not with you...officially, you are _nothing_ to me, and you have no right to try and dictate what I do with my life. Did you get that? Nothing. So don't you force me to choose, because if you do...you might not like what I decide."

"For fuck's sake, you wouldn't even be with him now if it wasn't for-"

"And you wouldn't be here either!" You lean on the kitchen counter with a beer bottle in hand, talking to the back of his head as he sits on the living room couch. "Look. Do you think I love the idea of you and Kathy...no. I don't, but I'd never dream of asking you to...it's not my place to do that and I know it."

"But that's where we're different," and oh, is _that_ it? "If you...okay. Put it this way- if you asked me to get a divorce, and I genuinely thought you were willing to have a go at making this work...to be honest, I don't know what I'd say, but I'd give it serious consideration. I'd do that much for you."

You turn around, gripping onto the edge of the sink to keep yourself upright because you kinda feel like collapsing onto the floor and curling up in a little ball for a while. "I never asked you for that. I wouldn't."

"Oh, I know," he says, and somehow he's teleported himself over to stand behind you, not touching but close enough that you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck. You recognize this for the poorly planned intimidation tactic that it is and pretend like you don't notice that he's there. He only falls back on his height advantage when he's getting desperate, after all. "Because you've got no problem fucking around with no feelings involved, no strings attached. I've seen it so many times, I guess that's what you want, but I...shit, Liv, I just don't think I'm like that."

You're startled because that's not self-righteous boasting, that's not petty jealousy- that's actual hurt in his voice, and you can tell by the way his breathing changes that he's as taken aback as you are. A bolt of sympathy passes through you like lightning, striking without warning and then disappearing without a trace. "So since you've got me all figured out already, why the hell would- did you really think you'd be any different? That you were gonna be the one to change me?"

"I didn't-"

"No, no. You've already established that I don't have feelings, that it's not 'what I want'. Because I didn't spend fucking _years_ of my life doing everything I could for you, and it was never good enough! _I_ was never good enough! You don't think I felt anything then? You don't think it hurt when you ended up with Kathy again after all that? Or when you're so obviously fucking the partner you've had for all of ten minutes? You don't think I wondered what I did that I didn't even deserve a goodbye? I guess not, huh, because that's just how I am. No strings attached, right?"

He still doesn't have the good sense to back the fuck away from you, and you would turn around and shove him across the room if you weren't so adamant that he not see your face, flushed red with embarrassment and dangerously close to tears. "Oh, so that's what this is, Liv? Revenge for all the times you think I screwed you over?"

"'This'? Are you fucking deaf? How many times do I have to tell you there _is_ no 'this'? There's me and you and that's all it's ever going to be. There's no 'this', no 'us', and I'm so tired of having this same argument over and over again because you just don't fucking listen! Anything we might've been...it's too late. Get that through your head."

"So what is it you want from me? No, you know what, don't answer that. I'm tired of being a warm body for you while you figure your shit out." It comes as a surprise when you no longer hear the sound of his breathing, only footsteps against the hardwood floor gradually getting further away.

"Where are you going?" you ask softly, voice wobbling. 

"Goodnight, Olivia."

You nod to yourself because really, why would you expect anything different? "I told you. I said I needed time because my head's a mess and everything's so complicated, and you said you understood. That you weren't going anywhere. And now you're doing exactly what you promised you wouldn't do."

"Why does it matter? I'm nothing to you, remember?"

Not wanting to give good judgment a chance to kick in first, you push yourself away from the counter and stalk across the apartment in a few long strides, blocking him from reaching for the doorknob. You keep crowding him until you've got him backed against the wall, until you're toe to toe and you're the one getting in _his_ face for a change. "Listen to me, you piece of shit, because I'm only going to say this once. Got it? I love you. Did you hear that? I love you, and don't you dare say it back to me, but now you know. And yes, you're the first person I've ever said that to, except my mother. Take that however you want."

"I...jesus, Liv," he stammers, looking equal parts stunned and terrified as you take a small step backwards, hand on your hip. "I have no idea how I'm supposed to respond to that without you kicking my ass."

"You could start by saying that you'll never ask me to stop fucking him again. Because I'm not going to. And if it helps you sleep at night to think I'm only doing him because you're not there- fine. But it's not true, and my relationship with him's not up for debate."

He nods dumbly, mouths 'okay', and were this any other time you would have taken a moment to appreciate how you have literally rendered him speechless.

"And I'm. When I said you were nothing to me...I didn't mean it," you admit. "I shouldn't have said that. Because it's a lie."

"Liv." He starts to move toward you, reaching his arm out before retracting it quickly when he sees your stony expression hasn't changed.

"That didn't mean I'm not still pissed at you. Jesus Christ, Elliot- how can you even think that...that there's no feelings involved in this for me? I get it, I'm no good with this kind of stuff but...it's like you don't even see how hard I'm trying. Do you realize how little I trust people these days? That I'm...goddamnit! This is all I have to give you, okay, and I know it's not what you want. I know you want more but it's not going to happen. And I'm- I'm sorry," you say, and the word feels so foreign rolling off your tongue, the two syllables a struggle to join together. "You've got this piece of me, and it's not much but it's all I have left. And it's yours if you want it but...again, here we are. I don't think it's enough for you."

Figuring he can show himself out, you go back into the kitchen and pick up a half-empty wine bottle that you had abandoned earlier. It feels heavy and cumbersome in your shaking hands, and after two failed attempts at refilling your glass you slam it back down on the table, the spilled liquid splashing onto your shirt. 

Now you're hunched over the counter once more, palms against the cold surface and head bowed as you wait for the sound of the closing door to tell you that it's safe to fall apart. That you're as alone as ever. 

"Liv," he says from the kitchen doorway, and when you don't respond he comes up behind you again and reaches around so his hands are covering yours.

"What."

"I love you," and goddamnit he knows you too well, because you instantly try to twist away from him but he's already got you bracketed between his arms, firm and unyielding. "Will you just be still and listen?"

"I should kick your ass," you threaten, just to remind him that if you were serious about getting away, you would have no problem giving him a well-placed knee to the balls. 

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before." He leans in and you can feel his mouth pressed to the back of your head. "I love you. And whatever it is that you're willing to give me...it's probably way more than I deserve anyway. I know I'm one lucky son of a bitch to even be standing here right now."

"Lucky. Yeah. That's one way of putting it."

"I'm fucking serious! I know you've got every right to hate me after...why do you think it took me so long to finally try and get in touch with you?"

"Because you don't like admitting you're wrong?"

He lets out a little self-deprecating chuckle, one arm snaking around your waist. "That, and I was scared shitless of how you'd react. You can be kinda terrifying sometimes, you know that? I mean, I've never heard anyone else say 'I love you' and make it sound like a threat."

"Maybe it is. Or it should be." Your posture straightens as you take your hands off of the counter, letting yourself lean back against him ever so slightly. "So what the hell happens now?"

"I guess...the smart thing to do would be to decide we have to stop doing this."

"But we're not going to," you say, and it's not even a question. With him, it never will be- any sort of separation is just going to end with you finding your way back to each other again and again, and trying to fight it seems as impossible as finding a missing plane in a vast ocean.

"No, course we're not. When have we ever done the smart thing?"

You look down at your joined-together hands and give them a tiny smile. "There must've been a time or two."

"Liv?"

"Mmm?"

"All that shit about you not being enough. It's not true and it never was. You're not the one who fucked up back then, okay...that was me. So don't say it again or else it's my turn to kick _your_ ass." He kisses the back of your neck again, pausing. "This is all I want. You. And if this is how it has to be..."

You shake your head, turning around to look up at him with your hands clutching his forearms. "I need you to understand...as much as the jealous asshole act suits you, he's not what's holding me back. I mean, he is, but. If he and I broke up tomorrow, it's not going to change things with us. It's not him, it's not your family, it's not even you. Ultimately- it's me. All that other shit plays a part but when it comes d-down to it...El, I just don't have that much left in me to give someone anymore and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I know. It's okay, I know. You don't ever have to apologize. It's not your fault," he reassures you with a bittersweet smile. You rise up on your toes and kiss him because you can't bear to hear the subtle tones of heartbreak in his voice anymore, not when you know there's no putting either of you back together again, and he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before you both fall still and silent for a long while, just holding onto each other.

"El?"

"Yeah?"

"I really do love you. But if you tell me that ever again, you're dead to me."

He gives you a genuine smile this time as he rests his forehead against yours. "See, what'd I say? Luckiest son of a bitch in the world, right here."

You almost believe him.

_{never took much to keep me satisfied}_

"Mmm. There you are," you murmur when he comes out of the bathroom and climbs into bed next to you, very much appreciating the fact that he hasn't bothered to get dressed again while he was up. "I was getting cold without you."

"You're already wearing five different layers," he points out, pulling you close to him anyway.

A little pleased sigh escapes your lips as you drape your arm across his torso. "When do you have to leave?"

"Well, officially I'm in Boston, so I guess I'm here until you kick me out."

"Yeah? Good, that means we still have a few hours." Part of you is curious as to what he's (not) doing in Boston, but then you decide this is probably a case of the less you know, the better off you'll be. Your fingers stroke over his hipbone, and you laugh when he groans. "Don't tell me I wore you out already? I forgot you're almost a grandpa."

"A grandpa that could still kick your ass," he says, because threats are the new terms of endearment in your world, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

You tilt your head upward, purring into his ear. "But I was right when I said I know what you like, wasn't I?"

"I never doubted you," he promises, turning his face toward you and kissing you softly, thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

"Hey. El?"

"Hmm?" he asks, your lips still only millimeters apart.

"What you asked me before? I'll do it. Once all this trial shit is over...we'll pick a weekend and be middle aged runaway delinquents together. Reality can go fuck itself for a couple days."

"Oh?" From the sound of his voice, he expected this to be a much harder sell. "What made you change your mind?"

You shrug, because there's only one real answer.

"You."

_{one too many drinks tonight  
and I miss you like you were mine}_


End file.
